


The Trial

by Kyprish_Prophetess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, post First War, sorta Marauders Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyprish_Prophetess/pseuds/Kyprish_Prophetess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus wasn't going to sit around and wait for someone to realize that this wasn't fair. He could do that himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trial

Remus stumbled into the meeting room, which was oddly deserted. He fell, more that sat, into the nearest seat, wincing as his strained muscles and bandaged wounds stretched and shifted. His breath echoed heavily in his ears as he raised his wand, murmuring an incantation. A silver dog, bear-like and friendly, darted out, disappearing into thin air in a moment. Remus sat, sweating, exhausted, and waited. Outside, the moon was high in its path, half-full and shining onto the first night of December.

Perhaps a moment later, perhaps after hours had passed, footsteps sounded in the hall, a sure gait that moved quickly towards the abandoned room.

“Remus?” Albus’ voice echoed against the blank walls, and Remus looked blearily up at him, bone-shakingly tired.

“Albus. My mission was successful. Where is everyone?” He spoke slowly, carefully, tongue thick in his mouth. 

“Remus… I am glad to see you well. We feared the worst when you did not report in. But… I am afraid you have missed much in the last few months, and… it is not good news. You should go to the hospital, or at least see Madam Pomfrey.” Albus looked beyond his age, ancient in grief and sorrow. Remus shook himself, hoping to clear his head.

“No, tell me now. I’ll see Madam Pomfrey, but tell me,” he said, louder than before, and attempted to sit straighter. Albus settled into another chair, putting a hand on his shoulder, gently. Remus tried both to look at his face and avoid his eyes, knowing his own were more yellow than brown; his Wolf was pushing at the surface more and more now. 

“James and Lily’s location was discovered, on Halloween night. Neither of them survived.” Remus froze, staring at the blue eyes that were no longer twinkling. 

“Harry?” He choked out, though he didn’t want to hear the truth, if it was what he thought it was.

“He survived, though I do not know how. Voldemort was destroyed in the attack. I believe that Lily sacrificing herself for Harry created a protection for him, one that will survive through her bloodline. Harry is with her sister Petunia now.” He hesitated here; Remus felt every muscle still capable of movement tense.

“There is one more thing. Sirius was appointed the Potters’ Secretkeeper, Remus. The only way that Voldemort could have found them is if Sirius told him.”

“No!” The shout was barely a word, more a voiced mixture of anger, shock and desperate denial. Remus could feel himself shaking.

“I am afraid that James told me personally he planned to ask Sirius, and the spell was performed not long after. Black, shortly after, went after Peter. There was an altercation in the middle of a Muggle street. By the end of it, Black was the last one standing; only a set of bloody robes and a single finger. Twelve Muggles were killed in the backlash. Black is serving life in Azkaban.” Remus was shaking his head, trying to block out his words.

“No, no he couldn’t. He wouldn’t, not Sirius. There has to be a mistake. Don’t tell me these lies!” Albus pressed harder on his shoulder, face creased in concern.

“Calm down, Remus! There will be time to grieve, but you need a Healer, now! Let me take you to Madam Pomfrey.” Remus felt himself be pulled out of the chair, the strange tang of magic in the back of his throat as he floated, weightless, out of the room.

“Hogwarts Infirmiry!” A burst of green light, the smell of smoke and Remus closed his eyes. His face was wet; the soot stuck to it just beneath his eyes.

~O~

He felt cold, staring out at the broad shores of the Black Lake, on the far side of the school. The snow as melting into his shoes and clothes, lending a sharpness to the chill in his bones, a chill that was only partially from the weather. 

The school was on break, most students home with their parents, the joy that Voldemort was defeated becoming infectious. Remus was glad for the lack of students; he would need to begin a Wolfsbane regimen if they were still present. But the teachers could now focus on him instead, and both McGonagall and Albus seemed particularly concerned that he needed all the attention they could give.

What he really needed was to see Harry, even a moment. The Dursleys’ did not wish for any Wizards to have access to their nephew, though whether this was personal prejudice or protectiveness Albus had not said. Remus hoped they wished to protect him, repeated it as a mantra every moment he thought of Harry. He had only seen pictures recently, had not seen Harry himself since he was three months old. But Harry was, in effect, family, and the desire to check on him, to see that he was truly alive, was almost overwhelming. 

As was his urge to see Sirius, even in prison. To know that the man he knew was no longer inside. The man he loved.

He had admitted to himself long ago that he was in love with Sirius Black; it had become as simple as breathing, as complex as his relationship with the Wolf. He had never spoken, but on some level he believed that Sirius knew, that it was this that had partially caused the slow breakdown in their relationship as the war had raged. 

Visitors were allowed only under very specific circumstances; family or official business for those who had life-long sentences. And Sirius, if the story was true, had earned his fifteen times over. One for every life he had taken, so it was said. Remus wondered what Voldemort’s sentence would be. Sirius would never see the light of day again. He was a traitor to Wizard-kind.

The word stuck in his head, like a song heard one too many times, repeating over and over as he watched the ice of the lake. 

Sirius had been Secretkeeper; he should never want to see him again. The betrayal, against Peter, against James, Lily and Harry, was more than could ever be forgiven. But the urge remained, and he could not ignore it. Silently, he stood up, freshly healed skin stretched oddly as he moved. There was a third way to get into Azkaban for a visit.

~O~

He wanted to be surprised at how easy it was to get into the prison; a small pouch of gold and a bottle of fire whiskey got him past the human guards, and the Dementors were unbothered by his presence. He didn’t bother with a Patronus; he wanted to be as unnoticed as possible, so while he felt as though the cold would never end, he kept his wand away as he walked along the long halls.

Most of the prisoners did not react to him passing, and the few that were even conscious of him only stared, eyes hollow. These were the long term prisoners, those that had life-long sentences and had survived the first few months. Many didn’t. 

Sirius was near the middle, in a cell set away from the other ones occupied in this area. Did they believe him to be dangerous, or were the prisoners for these cells missing for other reasons? Most of the criminals from the war were in this wing; he had passed some that he knew already, making him all the more thankful that he had worn the thick cloak, which hid his face from those few that would look.

The only figure in the cell was huddled in the back, staring out the window at the stormy skies. He was dirty, though not yet to the point of the other prisoners. There seemed to have been an attempt to keep clean. Remus stepped closer, the cloak making a quiet swishing sound on the stone floor. Sirius looked up, paling as he did.

“Hello?” His voice rasped, unused in several weeks, or perhaps from the screaming that even now echoed through the prison. Remus said nothing, but removed his hood. Sirius’ eyes widened, and he lurched to his feet, stumbling to the bars of the door. Remus almost moved away, but held still. He needed to see, to know.

“Remus! Are you okay? We thought you had been killed, Dumbledore said you hadn’t reported in. He told us you had been on dangerous missions and he couldn’t say anything,” Sirius babbled, his eyes shining in the dim light. His hands, nails long and dirty, reached through the bars towards his face. Remus let him, didn’t move as the hands took hold, gently, on either side of his face, pulling him even closer, almost touching the cold metal of the bars. They were wide; almost enough for someone to slip through. A child, perhaps.

Sirius looked hopeful, afraid, as though he had been crying for days on end, praying twice as long. There was no darkness, nothing to tell Remus he could be capable of what he had been told only Sirius could have done. 

“Sirius,” he breathed out, leaning against the bars of the door. He could smell Sirius’ scent, stronger than the thousands of others in the prison, even over the sharp cold of Dementors. 

“What happened? Albus said you were Secretkeeper, that you killed Peter and a dozen Muggles. Innocent people, Sirius! And what of James and Lily? What did you do?” Sirius’ hands were shaking, his eyes wet with tears. They were full of rage, however, and Remus almost took a step back before Sirius’ hands gripped harder, holding him close.

“No! It was- it was all my fault. James wanted me as Secretkeeper, said he didn’t trust anyone else. But I thought it was too obvious, suggested Peter instead. Who would have though of him?

“Halloween came and I was so worried, I went to check on Peter’s hiding place. But he was gone. I made for Godric’s Hollow, but by the time I got there… the house had half-collapsed. I found James on the stairs, and Lily,” he choked on their names, like a breath caught in his throat, before moving on again, “Lily was in Harry’s bedroom. I found Harry, but Hagrid took him, said Dumbledore had already decided to take him to Harry’s aunt and uncle.” Sirius was still shaking, and Remus moved his own hands up, through the bars, cupping Sirius’ sunken cheeks. Tears dripped down his hands.

“I gave Hagrid my bike. I was so angry, I couldn’t see straight. I needed to find Peter, but when I did, things went strange. He was screaming at me, calling me the traitor. I got close, I was going to Stun him and drag him to the Ministry, or kill him there. I wasn’t thinking straight. I could have done anything. Then the street exploded. I could feel him change, always released too much magic when he did, you know? There was smoke and dust everywhere, I couldn’t see. I was choking, couldn’t breath. When everything cleared, he was gone.

“I broke. They say the Aurors found me laughing in the middle of the street. I can’t remember any of it. Next thing I knew the Aurors were telling me that I was sentenced to life in Azkaban. There was no trial, no way to tell anyone. I haven’t spoken since it happened.” Remus didn’t respond, only held him still, mind blank save for the single thought that Sirius said he was innocent. His heartbeat was steady, his gaze had never wavered.

Sirius didn’t want him to stay, worried for the Dementors’ effects on him and how long the guards would keep silent that he had been allowed in. Remus promised to send him messages, by Patronus, as often as he was able, but he was not sure Sirius believed him. He was not sure Sirius realized that Remus believed what he had heard, either. 

But while he loved Sirius and could hardly believe he was capable of even passively allowing a friend to be harmed, Peter had become less and less the boy from school as the war had gone on. For power, he doubted he would have acted, and Peter had never held Death Eater ideology, but protection? To escape from a threat on his life? People had broken under less of a threat. 

But either story, Albus’ or Sirius’, demanded investigation. And he knew the perfect person to get him access. If he would agree.

Remus smiled to himself, grimly, and moved towards the boat that would take him to the shore. He had a mission again. He would find the truth.

~O~

“Here’s the full file on Black. It isn’t much; there was little reason for an investigation, considering the circumstances. The Aurors that were on the case did the minimum amount required to close the file.” As he spoke Shacklebolt set a single scroll in front of him. Remus nodded at him, rolling the scroll open on the desk.

“They never used Priori Incantatum on his wand? Isn’t that standard procedure if there is more than one wizard involved?” He’d worked with the man before, but Remus knew that Shacklebolt only had a vague idea of who Remus himself was, and likely didn’t realize how invested he was with Sirius’ case. He didn’t want to have anyone paying attention to him, not yet. If nothing else, Shacklebolt would be obligated to report him getting into Azkaban.

“Pettigrew was obliterated, from what we could tell. His wand was recovered as well, but as I said, considering the situation, both were put into storage without examination. Had there been a trial, we would have gone back to them.” Remus glanced up, frowning.

“You don’t agree with the decision to send him to Azkaban with no trial?” He was leveled with a considering look.

“I do not. And as you are here looking at that scroll, I would assume you do not either.” 

Remus raised an eyebrow, considering.

“Would you be willing to let me see the wands?”

~O~

The Auror vault was well-guarded, but with Shacklebolt next to him they stepped aside, though Remus garnered several odd looks. He wasn’t very well-known, thankfully, or he would have been detained for being a werewolf alone. He had been given special gloves, ones that would keep the wand from remembering his touch or the spell he cast. In case someone needed to prove what the wand had last cast again, it would not simply show Priori Incantatum.

“Here they are. Lupin, I don’t know what you expect to find in these.” Remus didn’t answer, instead reaching forward and pulling out Peter’s wand first. He could feel residual magic, both Peter’s and something that felt hot and dangerous. 

“Pettigrew’s wand. Odd that it wasn’t destroyed. Only thing to survive besides his robes and a finger from the left hand,” Shacklebolt explained as Remus leveled it away from them both, towards a blank wall.

“Priori Incantatum,” he said quietly, and a small explosion rocketed out of the wand at the wall, leaving a scorch area several feet around and crumbling at the center. Shacklebolt fell silent, staring at the wall. Remus almost grinned, the manic energy feeling like a prank gone well, and instead placed Peter’s wand back in its’ container. He pulled out Sirius’ now, wood familiar and warm under his fingertips, even through the cloth. Sirius’ magic flowed through him; they had always been able to use each other’s wands. 

Again he aimed at the wall, and whispered the incantation. The tip glowed, and he felt the bizarre squeezing sensation that came with an Apparition, though he didn’t move. 

“Pettigrew’s wand cast the explosion. Is there some way they were mixed up?” Shacklebolt asked, more to himself, while Remus put Sirius’ wand back as well. He wanted to keep it, give it back to Sirius. It felt wrong to leave it here, in a box deep underground.

“No. This is the wand sold to Sirius Black at Ollivander’s. He didn’t cast that spell, and unless I miss my mark, I doubt Pettigrew is as obliterated as we all thought.” Remus turned, to get a speculative look from the Auror.

“What are you planning? I don’t wish to leave an innocent man in Azkaban, but even with this evidence I do not believe the Wizengamut will free him. The press alone will deter them,” Shacklebolt said, and frowned when Remus nodded along.

“They will fear for their jobs, and certainly the Minister will not be the one to admit a man was sent to prison without trial, and was innocent the entire time. So I’ll find something they can’t ignore.” Shacklebolt gave him an amused look.

“I believe I would be better off not knowing for now. Try not to do something I would have to arrest you for. But I’ll say this; if you need help, I would only be too willing to aid you. If Black is innocent, he deserves to be freed as soon as possible.” Remus thanked him, already considering his next move.

~O~

“Barty Crouch? He’s a fanatic on the Death Eater trials. He believes that the only good criminal is a dead one. Always speaks for life sentences, no matter their level of involvement. And with his son now named as a Death Eater? He’s lost a lot of support, it would be easy to make an article on him going too far, but why the Black case? Know something I don’t?” Rita Skeeter smiled sharply, quill already halfway out of her handbag at the idea of a juicy story. Remus didn’t smile back.

“Nothing definitive. Yet. But what I do have is public already, if rather ignored. Not only did he never get a trial, no-one ever examined the two wands at the scene to discern who had blown the street. And half the story was excluded entirely, if you must know.” Her eyes lit up.

“Oh? What would that be? I can’t write a story with only some of the facts, you know.” He didn’t call her lie, only considered whether he ought to reveal this.

“I’ll tell you on one condition. I see any article before it goes to print. Deal?” She nodded after a moment.

“Fine. Must be good, if you’re so worried about this.” 

“I believe so. See, no-one talks of why Black and Pettigrew were fighting in the first place. Only a select few have any idea, those that interviewed the witnesses mostly. I have the whole truth.” She leaned forward, quill flashing as it danced across the parchment.

“James and Lily Potter had a Secretkeeper,” he said, and her eyes widened, high sales flashing in their depths.

“James’ closest friend from school was Sirius Black, so those in the know assumed he would choose Black. The fight in the streets, after the Potters’ deaths, was supposed to be Pettigrew attacking Black for betraying the Potters. The officials that sent Black to Azkaban were aware of this, yet never tested him for remains of the Charm. Nor did they point out that he could have taken Harry Potter on Halloween, as he was first on the scene before the man Dumbledore sent to pick him up arrived.” She paused, quill poised above her lines.

“Dumbledore knew of all of this?” Remus hesitated.

“He knew no more than anyone else, besides where Harry Potter is now located, as far as I know.”

“Have the wands been tested since then?” Remus leaned back.

“A source I have has indicated that Pettigrew’s conclusively cast the explosion that destroyed the street.” Both Skeeter’s brows raised at that. Remus continued, before she could ask anything.

“For now, I ask you to focus on Barty Crouch’s track record of being overzealous in this case, and when I have more information on Black specifically, I will send it to you.” She tapped her red lips, pursed in thought.

“I may know a way to interview Black himself, if it comes to that. But he isn’t liable to be sane anymore, being in Azkaban for four months already.” Remus shook his head.

“I think that such a trip would be worth your while; he may surprise you. I ask one other thing. Do not name me, not to him, not in your article. I have a few enemies of my own I would prefer to remain unaware of my actions.” She packed away her parchment and quill, standing from the small café table he had met her at.

“Who were you again? I don’t believe I took your name down.” She smiled, more pleasant than what he expected from her, and left.

~O~

_Barty Crouch: Was There Really Justice?_

_We all know, dear readers, of how much effort dear old Barty put into getting each and every Death Eater off the streets and into Azkaban. But was he really acting in the best way for Great Britain?_

_New reviews of the cases under his control reveal a startlingly large number of tribunals instead of trials, and in some cases no trial at all. One could say that they were saving time and expense in obvious cases, or trying to save the victims from testimonial. Others are beginning to argue that these were mistakes that have cost, or are still costing, innocent people their lives in prison, guarded by one of the most fearsome creatures Wizards have ever known, Dementors._

_We would hope that all efforts are taken to ensure that innocent people are not sent to this horrible place, but with so many questionable decisions, that possibility dwindles. His statements…_

_Continued on B4_

~O~

Remus spoke to the Patronus for the better part of an hour, the glowing dog sitting patiently until he finished before disappearing through the wall of his flat. He sent them every week, though he never knew if they arrived at their location, or if Sirius was still sane enough to understand what their presence meant. Sirius had never seen his Patronus, he had realized when he sent the first one. If he hadn’t known about Remus’ feelings beforehand, he certainly did now.

He made sure to speak of happy memories in each message, of school and the summers, anything he could think of. He also spoke of a mission he hadn’t been able to tell them about, every detail he could manage. He spoke of current events, important or not, to keep Sirius connected with reality. He wanted to send them more often, but worried that if he did so they would be noticed. His work to free Sirius was becoming an obsession, a constant ache in his soul, a worry that he would be too late, that madness would set in before he could act.

~O~

“I’m worried for you, Remus. I have barely seen you since you left Hogwarts, and seen to be getting thinner by the day.” Albus’ face was drawn with worry, but Remus waved it off, finishing his tea before responding.

“More and more anti-werewolf legislation is passing in the Wizengamut, so I’ve been having trouble holding a job. I won’t lie, it’s a tight situation, but I’m managing fine, Albus. You worry too much.” This did not seem to reassure him.

“You are still welcome to stay here. I would love to have you teach. If the Wolfsbane Potion is what is worrying you, I can see what I can do, though truthfully I don’t understand your reluctance to take it.” Remus frowned, setting aside his cup.

“The Potion makes an artificial barrier in one’s mind between the Wolf and the human. It is not healthy. Most werewolves gain control by becoming one with their other half, not shutting it out. They become dependant on the Potion, Albus, and one missed dose can have dire consequences.” Albus shook his head, and Remus realized that there was no way to explain exactly what such a thing felt like. Albus did not have a second set of instincts and abilities, and could never understand what cutting them away could do to a person, no matter how Remus attempted to explain.

“You are still welcome for tea whenever you like. I can recommend you to some research associates of mine as well; they could use a sharp mind like yours, and I know plenty of witches and wizards that do not hold the prejudices against werewolves that hinder you.” Remus inclined his head, grateful.

“Perhaps soon, but not yet. I have a project of my own I must finish first, and I’m afraid time is rather tight on it at the moment.” Despite Albus’ less than subtle questions, he refused to speak another word on what that was. Dumbledore had known about the little evidence against Sirius, and had said nothing. Whatever his intentions, Remus could not trust him at the moment.

~O~

His research lay spread around the entire flat, leaving only the cheap couch against the wall clear. Half was studying the spell from Peter’s wand, and how unlikely that Sirius could have cast it, or indeed that it could have killed Peter from where Sirius had been standing. The rest was where Peter could have run. If Remus could find him, the whole case would be locked; it would force a trial to take place.

Peter would want to be in the know, so if he was hiding in rat form, as Remus suspected, it would be near the Wizarding world. Wizards and witches, if nothing else, were more likely to consider a rat as a pet than a nuisance. Peter would want a stable location to live in.

He’d considered Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade as possibilities, but they were both so chaotic all the time, as a rat it would be unsafe. Inside the Ministry would have some irony to it, but there were spells to keep vermin out, and most other locations in the Wizarding world had similar spells or cats to kill rats. With the war still winding down, Aurors were called out to even the smallest oddities. Dangerous for a man on the run and a rat avoiding notice. 

So, that left somewhere quieter, and if Peter was still trying to keep track of the Wizarding world, the best chance he had would be in a home, likely as a pet of some kind. Leaving Britain would be safer, but difficult to manage, but there were still thousands of possibilities left even within a ten mile range of the fight. For Aurors the search would be impossible.

Remus was not an Auror. So while he sent updates to Sirius, and to Rita Skeeter, he continued to look into spell damage and every notable location Peter may have gone to.

Below the scene of the fight there was a sewer main that led in multiple directions. A singular rat wouldn’t stand out there. Ottery St. Catchpole was the nearest area with any magical population, so one by one he had traveled by, an Animagus detection charm active the entire way. It left him drained and exhausted, using the charm for so long without break, and it took several days under an Invisibility cloak casting at the edges of the property until he had covered every inch. But he had successfully ruled out most of the area. Next was the Lovegood’s home and the Weasely’s, commonly called the Burrow. After that, the district would be clear, at least as far as he could tell.

But the full moon was tonight, and with no alternatives available Remus Apparated to the Shrieking Shack once again, locking every door and window down so that he could not escape. 

During the war he had been able to gain control over the Wolf. Werewolves living away from society were more attuned to their other self, and control was learned not through chains and spells, but meditation and calm. But howling and a desperation need to get outside, away from walls and to Sirius or other pack members was strong, was too much to fully control. With help, perhaps, but alone Remus felt his grip slipping, slowly, and wondered how long he could continue as he was without breaking down.

~O~

“Based on what you have on the situation, Mr. Lupin, I’m inclined to agree with your findings. The spell cast could not have done what the report indicated, at least the death of the closest individual. The damage is simply too severe to have been deadly at such close range without killing the other in the center as well. I believe that a safety zone was purposely cast at the center, and in that case the two wizards in it would have survived.” The elderly man looked up from the simple map, where the location of each person and the damage done to the area was marked out.

“I’m glad you agree, sir. I’ve been working on that for so long I’m afraid I may soon lose sight of the forest in the trees. If necessary, would you be willing to say your opinion in court?” The man, a retired Charms Master named Arnold Penworth, nodded, but with a curious expression on his face.

“I would be delighted to do so, but why would I need to? Surely there are spell experts at the Ministry that could give this information? Or you could as well, as you did all the research in the first place.” Remus shook his head, collecting his notes back into his bag and reminding himself to send another letter to Rita Skeeter about this latest development.

“They certainly have experts, yet none of them said a word at the time of the crime. I would prefer an outside opinion. And I plan to speak on behalf of the accused, so I can’t be the one to affirm my own research. My thanks to you, Master Penworth, I hope to see you again soon.” The other man stood, showing him to the door.

“Is this about those articles that Skeeter woman has been writing? I must say, an unusual angle for her, trying to right a wrong instead of making it worse.” Remus took his cloak off the hook, clasping it quickly.

“She just wants to sell papers, and everyone loves a scandal. But a scandal can be more than an affair or other ridiculous things, and her articles sell. Giving her the exclusive was a sure way to get the whole thing into the press, and keeping it there. Other papers have been looking into similar things as well. It seems that now that the war is over, people are more willing to think about what was done. Thank you again, and have a pleasant day.” 

Remus stepped out, into a dreary April rain that didn’t appear to be letting up any time soon. He wondered if Sirius was aware of how many people were now coming to his defense, or if he was so far gone into madness he could no longer comprehend. He sent a Patronus every third day now, desperate to have contact and to stave off what he believed was coming. Those who were released from Azkaban, for lighter charges, were rarely the same, and even a year in the prison was enough to cause damage. But without any way to speak to Sirius and get a response, he could only sent messages, work, and worry.

~O~

_Sirius Black: One Of The family Or The Black Sheep?_

_Every person who ever was friends with this handsome man have said they could not believe what he was in prison for. That’s quite a statement, considering his crimes. But were they his?_

_Besides being found at the scene of the destruction clutching his wand, there had been barely any investigation into the case at all. Indeed, Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban with no trial, or even a hearing to discuss his sentence. He himself only saw a holding cell in Auror headquarters before transfer to the prison itself. As a life-long prisoner, he has no visitation rights, and no ability to communicate with others. With little concrete evidence to say he was the culprit, the punishment is severe._

_Even worse, dear readers, is that damning new evidence indicates that he may be innocent! An anonymous source of mine has revealed that magically speaking, the spell used to cause the damage was more likely to have come from Pettigrew’s wand than Black’s. As neither was ever examined, it is unknown whether this is the truth. But it is startling, is it not, that even that basic step has not been taken by officials?_

_Continued on C1_

~O~

“I managed a short interview with Black last week. The guards are too easy to bribe, makes me wonder what else they let pass,” Rita mused, stirring her bright drink with a long fingernail. Remus sipped at his butterbeer, and waited.

“He’s remarkably sane, could barely tell he’d been there a day, much less months. I got his side of the story, and every bit matches what you and I have managed to dig up. Granted, without Truth potion or some Legilimency few will buy the story, but having personal quotes are always a popular bit in stories. Makes them seem more real to readers.” Remus set his drink down, peering at her.

“He was sane?” She nodded, taking a sip of her own drink.

“As you and I. Even spoke of it. Thought it might be because of his innocence. Not a happy thought, but an important one, easy to hold onto. I’m sure St. Mungos will have some idea; he’ll need Healers after being there for so long, sanity or not.” Remus felt, for the first time in months, something loosen in his chest, allowing him to breathe. Sirius was fine. Well, not fine, but not as horribly as he could be. If innocence was what he was holding onto, Remus could feed that, keep him sane, while he built the case.

“How long until you force this to trial? The Daily Prophet has been getting more and more letters asking about the case; if I write the rest of what we’ve gathered the public will go into an uproar,” Rita finished her glass, and gestured for another one from a server passing by. She eyed the man as he walked away, leering a bit.

“The timing will have to be perfect. If I go in too soon, the Ministry will likely ignore it, especially coming from me. Outside support will probably be necessary. But if we wait too long after the article, the fervor will have died down, and there will not be as much impact. If we wait on the last article, suspense will build. Besides, I believe I have one more thing that will tie the whole thing up so neatly no-one can ignore it.” Rita leaned forward, obviously aware of another juicy story before her.

“What is this last bit? Remember, I get the exclusive. If you have something else you need to tell me before anything else.” Remus shook his head.

“Not yet. It may turn out to be nothing anyway, and the less anyone knows, the better chance it has of staying secret. Don’t worry; you’ll get every detail.” She sat back, disappointed. She was mollified when, as her drink arrived, so too did the name of the server, and when his shift ended. Remus bid her a thankful farewell, and beat a hasty retreat to her simpering smile.

~O~

_Sirius Black: Do We Have The Whole Story?_

_You know very well now, dear listeners, how the Ministry may have bungled the Black case. But did you know that half the reason he is in Azkaban has never even been revealed to the public?_

_The tragic fight that took thirteen lives before Black was sent to Azkaban had a reason besides bloodlust or rage. As reports go, both were very good friends of the Potter’s, who had been killed only a few days before. As it turns out, that was exactly what they were fighting about! The Muggle witnesses said, before their memories were erased, that Pettigrew was yelling that Black betrayed them, but did he really? And were they reliable, considering the circumstances?_

_An anonymous Auror has come forward and confessed that, given the explosion, normally their testimony would have been useless, and dismissed as easily confused in the chaos. Instead, it has been relied on as evidence in a crime that never made it to trial…_

_Continued on A3_

~O~

He had foregone secrecy to ask Xenophilius Lovegood for a look around, using the excuse that a spelled rat had escaped in the area and may have hidden in his home, and had been met by a full dinner with his very pregnant wife after he completed his search.

While the food had been odd-tasting, and the Gerdy root tea disgusting, the feeling of welcome and happiness was so calming it was hard for Remus to leave. With that final examination out of the way, only the Burrow was left as a possibility in the area. If Peter was not there, Remus would have to continue to the next county, which was several miles further along the way. If Peter had gone that far, he could just as easily have gone across the country.

A week passed before he could get to the Burrow. Arthur Weasley was at work when he arrived, but his wife Molly, also heavily pregnant, welcomed him in.

“I’m sorry to have to trouble you, Mrs. Weasley. I was traveling in the area several months ago when an experimental rat managed to get itself loose. Quite honestly I’m worried about the damage it could do if it has managed to get into a home, considering the damage it did to the cage it was inside.” Molly sat him at the kitchen table, and had him served with soup before he could blink, a mug of warm cider beside it.

“Oh, call me Molly, please dear. And it’s no trouble, especially if you’re going through all this to watch out for us. As chance would have it, my son found a rat some time ago, about the time you were traveling. He’s got it as a pet now, named the thing Scabbers. He’ll be sad to see him go, but I’m sure he’ll understand. Percy’s a smart boy. But eat, tell me about yourself. I’m stuck at home now, and with five boys running about I don’t see many folks above my waist.”

Remus let himself be drawn into conversation, speaking of his hobbies into research and curse breaking. Molly seemed genuinely interested, and even mentioned being a dueling expert when she had been younger, before having children.

“When they’re older, I may go back to it, but at the moment I couldn’t. Especially when pregnant; could you imagine what I would look like on the field, with this belly?” 

The boys, she told him, were playing in the field out back, with brooms spelled to only go a few feet in the air. Except Ron, the baby, who was asleep in a cradle in the living room.

“We can check the rat while they’re out, and if Scabbers isn’t the one you’re looking for you’ll be able to scan around for it before the house is over-run. In a few years they’ll be in school, and I wonder if I’ll miss the noise.” Remus laughed, and told her it was likely she would, but only until it was back.

Scabbers was in a cage in Percy’s room, a few floors up. The Weasley’s house was incredible, and an indication of the magical power of the family that it was still standing. The child’s room was neat and tidy, the cage even more so. Remus spoke as he approached, keeping his voice down. The rat was asleep.

“He was missing a toe on his left front paw, and has some distinct markings on his ear. But I do have a charm to be sure; wouldn’t want to deprive your son of his pet for no reason.” Molly nodded, though for the first time she looked vaguely uneasy, as though she hadn’t expected this to really happen.

He peered into the cage, and bit back a growl. The markings, from a well-aimed hex at school, were there, and the missing toe corresponded to the missing finger that had convinced the world Peter Pettigrew was dead. He pulled out his wand.

“Mum? What are you doing? Who is that?” A child’s voice stopped him, and he turned to see a small redheaded boy with glasses peering through the doorway. Other voices could be heard downstairs, running around as quietly as children could (not very).

“Percy, this is Remus Lupin. He came because his rat went missing, and he’s been looking for it for months. Remember when you found him, and I told you he may be someone’s pet?” Molly’s voice was soothing, but Remus could see in a moment Percy would start crying.

He walked over, and knelt down in front of the boy.

“Hullo Percy. I believe you have my rat. You named him Scabbers?” Percy nodded.

“Uh-huh. Cause of his scabby tail.” Remus chuckled at the description.

“I called him Wormtail for that tail. Pretty ugly, isn’t it? But see, he’s an old friend, and I’d like him back. But that isn’t really fair, is it?” Percy frowned in confusion. Behind him, Molly was doing the same. 

“No… but if he is your rat, then I have to give him back, don’t I?” Molly crouched down next to him, holding his shoulders.

“Yes dear, but we’ll get something, okay? It won’t be the same rat, but something.” Percy still looked close to tears, but Molly managed to settle him downstairs with a promise of hot chocolate. Remus weighed his options, how much food he had versus a crying child. When Molly came back up, he offered her a small sack of coins.

“That should cover enough for something, at least, for him. Losing a pet isn’t easy, and I hate to do that to him before he can really understand.” Molly weighed the bag, her eyes widening.

“This is-” He held up a hand to quiet her surprise.

“Not enough to repay what you’re giving back to me.” Her mouth opened and shut a few more times, and even attempted to push the bag back into his hands, but he refused it, and she eventually placed it in a pocket of her skirt.

“A rat that important ought to be taken home, then, Mr. Lupin.” 

“Remus, please. And yes, I think it is high time to get home. One last thing, though.” He turned back to the sleeping rat, and cast the charm, silently.

It was almost anti-climactic, when the rat glowed a brilliant green for a few moments before going back to the dirty grey.

~O~

“When you said you had one more thing to find, I didn’t think you meant Peter Pettigrew himself,” Rita managed to say, though her shocked face was telling. She leaned forward, peering into the cage. Wormtail was no longer asleep, and was desperately attempting to escape his prison now.

“He’s an Animagus, and a rat at that. The likelihood of finding him was so small even I didn’t think it would work. It was sheer luck that he hadn’t gone far. He was the household pet of a family nearby, though I think leaving their names out of this would be best. I didn’t tell them why, exactly, I was looking for a rat.” Her eyes trained on him again.

“How did you know? He isn’t registered anywhere, I’ve looked into that.” He raised a brow, pointedly at her.

“Neither are you, Ms. Skeeter, yet here we are.” She backed up a step, shock replaced swiftly with wary respect. She gestured for him to go on, eyes trained again on the spelled cage that held the rat. He squeaked frantically at her, attempting to bash his way out.

“I have an Auror friend that I believe will help us process him, but the story is delicate here. Better to stick with whatever story he comes up with. Remember, only you two know the whole story now, and it is up to you both to keep it running.” 

“And you,” she observed, tapping a nail on the cage and smirking at the indignant squeak she earned.

“And me. But I have a habit of being forgotten.“ Skeeter stood straight, and peered at him.

“Lupin… I’m glad you aren’t a writer. I’d lose my column in an instant if you put your talents to journalism.” He smiled at her, the tightness in his chest looser still every time he saw Pettigrew still in his cage.

~O~

Getting Shacklebolt to take Pettigrew into custody was difficult, not because he didn’t believe him, but because he did not want to take credit.

“Look at what you’ve done,” he said, gesturing to the extensive spell research and maps all over the small flat. 

“This is months of work and research, and you’re willing to let me take the credit for it all? I can’t. You’ll be a hero for freeing an innocent man, Lupin, don’t make me take that.” But Remus was adamant.

“You know I’m a registered werewolf, and I have ties to places best left unmentioned. If you need to, write that the rat was left at your office with a note, but leave me out of this.” Eventually, Shacklebolt had accepted, and both he and Pettigrew disappeared from the flat.

Remus felt his stomach growl, and briefly regretted giving his gold to the Weasleys, until he remembered seeing the whole family in Diagon Alley, a family owl perched on young Percy’s shoulder and ice cream for everyone. Arthur Weasley had come up to personally thank him for his generosity. He couldn’t be regretful after that.

But with no more of the case to go through, no more details to obsess over, he would need a job. With a groan of exhaustion, he sat to write a letter.

~O~

_Sirius Black To Stand Trial!_

_That’s right dear readers. After nearly a year of being locked away with no trial or legal procedure to speak of, Sirius Black has been called from Azkaban to stand full trial in front of the Wizengamut for the deaths of Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles, and for suspected involvement in the deaths of James and Lily Potter, close friends of Black._

_An anonymous source has been feeding me information as the case was built, starting only a month after Black’s incarceration. Now, this source has the juiciest piece yet; Peter Pettigrew himself was found, alive and well, hiding near the location of the crime. Pettigrew has been confirmed by the Auror Department to have been an illegal rat Animagus. Who found him is unknown, as he was discovered in a spelled cage on Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt’s desk only two days before Black was summoned from Azkaban._

_With this startling new development, as well as the facts my source has been giving me all year, Sirius Black may find himself entirely free of his charges when the trial ends._

_More as this develops,_  
Me, Myself and I,  
Rita Skeeter 

~O~

The evidence was so obviously against Pettigrew that Remus was able to relax, from where he sat in the visitor’s seating. He normally would not have access, but Shacklebolt had apparently pulled some strings to get him there. Penworth’s testimony was particularly well-received; despite retirement, he was still respected in his field, and his expertise was noted. Penworth had seemed confused to be questioned by Shacklebolt instead of Remus, but he answered much the same as when they had spoken months before.

“If Black had cast that spell, with the intention of harming Pettigrew in any way, he himself would have been killed as well. There was simply too much energy in the spell to have not caused harm to those in the center without there being some safeguard in place that would have prevented harm to the caster, and in this case the man standing only feet away.” 

Rita Skeeter had been called in by the Ministry, in an attempt to force the name of whoever she had been getting information from out of her. But she adamantly refused, though she did speak of several of the points her articles had raised. Murmurs had broken out at that. With his enhanced hearing Remus could tell many of those present were moving to Sirius’ side.

The clincher came in too parts; Sirius’ tearful testimony, striking for its’ emotion especially after Azkaban, and Pettigrew’s stammered confession to everything under Verituserum. Pettigrew’s gaze flew all over the room, landing on him. Surprisingly, he said nothing about Remus at all. Sirius’ eyes mainly focused on his questioner, though he did glance at Dumbledore and the guest seating several times as well. Remus didn’t know whether he had been spotted or if Sirius was simply curious who would be reporting his trial.

When the verdict was voted on, only three wands were raised for guilty; Barty Crouch, a particularly toad-faced woman in a hideous pink cardigan and a crab-faced Wizard near to where Remus was sitting. Cheers erupted when ‘Innocent’ was called out into the silence.

Sirius sat in shocked silence, as the chains fell away, his wand handed back rather ceremoniously by Shacklebolt himself. Then, as he looked down at it, his face split into a grin; not the mad one from his arrest, but the one at James and Lily’s wedding. Complete and total joy, and after a moment tiny red fireworks sparked out of the end, careening off the ceiling and falling harmlessly back down like snow. 

Remus breathed deeply, and allowed himself to smile. From a few seats away, Rita Skeeter caught his eye and nodded, her own lips stretched in a grin as well. 

~O~

_Black Freed!_

_Yes, that’s right! After almost a year of incarceration, Sirius Black is once again a free man. The startling evidence found by my anonymous source, who still refuses any credit in this, has done what some would have said was impossible and gotten Black entirely cleared of his charges._

_“It’s… incredible. Like flying on a clear day after being locked inside for days, that’s what it feels like. I can’t begin to explain it.” Black himself said, when I caught him for an interview. (For the full transcript, see page B4)_

_Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, who presented the case, was frustratingly vague on many details of the case._

_“I don’t know why the original case had so little work done, and I’m sure that will be investigated. I am happy that Black was freed. My job is to pursue justice, and what was done, regardless of why, was not justice.” When asked about the abrupt appearance of Peter Pettigrew in the case, he responded with this:_

_“I believe I know who it was that found him, but as he was, indeed, left on my desk one afternoon, I do not know for certain. Whoever it was, I would love to hire. Or hear of how they found a man that could hide anywhere in the world with little fear of being found.”_

_And wouldn’t we all love to hear that? But whoever that person was has covered their tracks well; the Auror department is investigating now as to who could have managed it._

_The final vote was so overwhelmingly in Black’s favor there is no doubt that Pettigrew has his own work cut out for him in getting off on the charges Black was so recently cleared of. (Details on Pettigrew’s testimony on page C2)_

_Black himself has gone under the radar, though it is likely he is seeking some Healer help to combat the effects of prolonged exposure to Dementors. Despite his sane appearance at the trial, he will likely need months of recovery, and if he enjoys privacy he won’t reveal where. Certainly he didn’t tell me!_

_But I think we all can breathe a bit easier knowing this crime has been fixed. But I wonder, what next? What else has the Ministry swept under the rug?_

_More as I unearth it,  
Me, Myself and I_

~O~

Remus slept for so long that when he woke again, he wasn’t sure what day it was. The sun seemed to be in the same place it had been when he had collapsed onto his couch, too excited and too exhausted to do more than fall in the general direction of the cushions. 

Rubbing at his eyes and feeling as though his stomach was attempting to either swallow itself or his surrounding organs, he stood, wobbling a bit. There was sound; for an agonizing moment he thought it was his own thumping heart before he realized it was knocking at his door.

He stumbled twice on his way there, over a coffee table that he had overturned to tie strings to in a web of information, and over nothing at all. The knocking was gentle, but consistent. He opened it, too quickly, and came face to face with Sirius Black, holding a paper bag.

“May I come in?” Sirius asked, oddly formal. Remus became aware that he was still wearing rumpled dress robes, hair skewed in several directions. He stepped back from the door, gesturing for Sirius to come inside. Only after Sirius had passed did he remember the chaos that was his flat.

Sirius looked around at the mess, and Remus looked at Sirius. He looked better, so much so that Remus again wondered how long he had been asleep. His hair was clean, slightly shorter, and his face clean shaven. The clothes were new, normal Muggle t-shirt and jeans. 

“Is the kitchen clear of the investigation, or should we eat on the couch?” Sirius asked, in a way that made Remus suspect he had had to repeat himself.

“Ah- the kitchen is fine. You go through, I’ll just change out of these,” he gestured oddly to his clothes. Sirius’ gaze dragged down his body, then snapped back to his face. 

“Yeah, you do that. I’ll, uh, be in here,” he said, sounding pained, and moved away to the kitchen. Remus bolted to his room, shedding the robes and attempting to breathe. It was only Sirius; he had done this a hundred times.

But he hadn’t usually been sending a Patronus in the shape of Sirius himself for months, after getting him free of Azkaban. There was that.

He found a jumper that wasn’t too ratty, left his pants, and finger combed his hair until it was mostly tidy, before re-entering his kitchen. Sirius was standing at the counter, pulling out two cups and plates for whatever take-away the bag held. Remus walked in, basking in the joy that was Sirius, here, free and cleared of charges.

“Sirius…” He breathed the name, and Sirius turned to look at him, his face full of quiet wonder.

“I… Skeeter told me you hadn’t looked well, at the trial, so I brought Chinese. Figured you were neglecting your health, just like old times,” he joked, but it fell a bit flat. Nevertheless, Remus chuckled, relieved that Sirius was well enough to joke at all.

“Ah… yes, I suppose I did. She did swear not to reveal her source to anyone, but I suppose the state of my flat revealed that bit well enough, didn’t it?” He gestured back towards the main room, still covered in all the remnants of his months of work. Sirius grinned.

“It did, but I figured it was you. After… after you visited, there was a Patronus that came. It looked just like Padfoot. At first, I thought I was hallucinating, until I realized that the Dementors wouldn’t come to my cell until it left again. They tried to take away whatever it gave me, every time, but after a few visits, the messages… stayed with me, like there were layers of protection now, and every visit made them thicker.” Sirius had a look of awe on his face at the memory. Remus settled down into a chair without thought, watching him.

“It was your Patronus, wasn’t it?” Sirius asked, finally sitting down and setting the dishes and food on the table. Remus startled a bit.

“Yes, it was. I realized, after the first, that you had never seen my Patronus. Bit telling, isn’t it, that it looks like you. Like James and Lily’s always did…” Remus knew he was making things as obvious as possible, and by the wonder spreading across Sirius’ face, it was being received well.

“So… you…?” 

“For years now. I thought you knew already, and then everything happened, and I couldn’t leave you in Azkaban, so I went to at least see you, and then…” he made to gesture at the crime map on the walls behind him, but he couldn’t really move, as Sirius had taken hold of both of his hands, leaning over the table to kiss him.

“Remus? Mine is a wolf.”


End file.
